The Voice Across The Moors
by Steerpike
Summary: A romance between Susan Bones and Zacharias Smith based upon the musical of "Jane Eyre", incorporating the lyrics of well-loved songs and including other characters such as Hannah Abbott, Ernie MacMillan and Rose Zeller, not to mention favourites from the
1. Forgiveness Is The Mightiest Sword

**CHAPTER ONE**  
_**Forgiveness Is The Mightiest Sword**_

_You must never lose faith  
You must never lose heart  
God will restore your trust  
And I know you're afraid  
I'm as scared as you are  
But willing to be brave  
Brave enough for love_

"_Forgiveness" Jane Eyre, The Musical_

It was hard for her to believe how life had changed. How was it that so many years ago she'd been such a young, innocent girl; learning how to cast spells and forming lifelong friendships with the most beautiful of people that this world had to offer? It seemed like only yesterday that she'd graduated from Hogwarts; her marks weren't the best and she didn't win any prizes, but she'd passed. She'd finished. She'd had the best friends in the world. She'd felt confident. Educated. Knowledgeable. Wise, even. She'd felt ready to take on the world.

Susan sighed softly, watching the hills roll by. The fog had settled in the valleys, making the world outside seem mystical. How many twists and turns her world had taken of late. What she wouldn't give to be that young, innocent girl back at Hogwarts again! Back with her beloved professors, her beloved friends, the looming hallways, the moving staircases, the beautiful grounds? So much had happened. Wars won and lost. Freedom asserted. Spirits ascended as life was ended. This world, a world so much older, was so very different to that old world. She'd known who she was then. Now? Now she just didn't know anymore. Happiness evaded her. Destiny evaded her. And now her world was tipping dangerously again.

"'Scuse me, miss." The conductor was standing at her elbow. "I asked if you wanted a cup of tea; Marge is waiting with the cart."

Susan shook her head slightly, keeping her gaze fixed on the passing scenery. "No, thank you, sir." She attempted a smile, trying in vain to disguise the tear slipping quickly down her cheek.

"Alright, miss." The conductor left the compartment. The man in the seat opposite Susan shifted in his sleep, his hat tipping forward, the brim balancing neatly on his nose.

Susan's smile faded slowly. Nothing could make this moment any less bleak, any less painful. For anyone would agree; visiting one's best friend during their final weeks was not something to be celebrated. Susan had never seen more reason to shun the God that Hannah believed in so faithfully. What God, in all their mercy, would take such a beautiful creature away from the world and bestow gifts of such despair, such sorrow on her loved ones? The words rang as clearly in Susan's ears as the first day she'd heard them "I'm dying." An incredible ache had worked and penetrated her chest, splitting her heart apart and leaving a gut-wrenching sorrow deep within her. And nothing – nothing – could fill the void left inside of her, least of all this God who Hannah implored her to have so much faith in. "He will keep your sorrow at bay," she had written. A sorrow He had caused? Susan scorned the idea. She had never felt so desolate.

* * *

Susan squeezed her friend's hand gently, smiling through her tears. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she kept repeating. Hannah's eyes were creased in concern though her face was pale.

"Sue," she said, her voice a bare whisper. "You will be alright."

"Let's not talk of me." Susan refused her friend's comfort with a false smile. "Are you feeling any better?"

Hannah's eyes flicked away to glance out the window before returning to gaze at Susan. "Not really," she said carefully. "Though it's not so much pain anymore as a heavy ache that just sort of..." She paused. "Drains me." She smiled wistfully. "I don't have much energy anymore. I spend most of my time in this bed."

"Oh," Susan said, the tears threatening to overspill again. She hated being so selfish and so weak while her friend was dying. Who was she to be so upset when she needed to be strong for Hannah? "I..."

"Don't, Sue," Hannah said, seeming to sense Susan's despair. "You don't have to be strong for me. I'm alright. I've accepted that this is how it's going to be."

"But you're so young!" Susan burst out. "We're not even forty, Han!" The tears did spill over then. "It's so unfair!"

"It's not," Hannah replied. "It's what is meant to be. God needs me in Heaven."

"Oh, your God!" Susan instantly regretted the words, seeing the concern flash in Hannah's eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You haven't found your faith, then," Hannah responded softly, watching Susan closely.

"No," Susan agreed. "I really haven't. I don't want to love someone who sees fit to take my best friend away from me!"

"Sue." Hannah closed her eyes. "Do you know I felt the same way?"

Susan's eyes widened in surprise. "How?" she wanted to know.

"You surely don't think I _want_ to die," Hannah said incredulously, shaking her head slightly. "I cried and I screamed and I ran into the church and hurled all manner of abuse at the Lord when I found out, Sue. I don't want to leave you. You're the best friend I've ever had."

Susan was crying freely. "I don't want you to go," she sobbed. "Why do you have to?"

Hannah faltered. "I... I don't really know," she said at last. "It's just fate, I suppose."

"Fate!" Susan declared. "I hate her! I hate everything and everyone who has caused you to..." she stopped abruptly, not wanting to say the words out loud.

Hannah flinched as though Susan had said the words. "Who has caused me to die?" she challenged.

"Yes," Susan whispered, staring down at her hands. "I hate this so much."

"You mustn't hate anyone or anything," Hannah told her, reaching out a hand to clasp Susan's. "You mustn't be revengeful. You have to be strong to offer good for evil, return right for wrong." She squeezed Susan's hand gently. "Oh, we must not hold a grudge, Sue. And we must learn to endure." She smiled. "Then as God is your judge, at least your heart will be pure."

"I would rather you stay with me forever than have a pure heart," Susan said bitterly.

Hannah smiled still. "Do you know..." she paused. "A nun from our church visited me yesterday. And she didn't say a word to me. She merely held my hand. A tear fell down her cheek and she sang the most beautiful verse to me, Sue..."

"She sang to you?" Susan asked.

"Yes," Hannah affirmed. "She sang. It was something like..." She frowned, thinking, before clearing her throat. "Forgiveness," she sang softly in a wobbly voice, "is the mightiest sword. Forgiveness of those you hate will be your highest reward." She smiled again. "It made me think, Sue. When they bruise you with words; when they make you feel small; when it's hardest to bear... you must do nothing at all."

Susan said nothing, her mind abuzz.

"Forgiveness is the simplest vow," Hannah continued. "Forgiveness of all their crowns is your deliverance now. Bless their souls who would curse your name. When the last bell tolls, you'll be free of blame."

"Perhaps you should have been a nun, too," Susan suggested.

Hannah ignored her. "You can continue to breathe but know the Gospel is true. You must forgive those who lie and bless them that curse you. Forgiveness is the mightiest sword; forgiveness of those you fear will be your highest reward."

Susan sniffed. Hannah clenched her hand around Susan's tighter, looking imploringly into Susan's eyes. "The time will come when you will leave this world and then the injustice and the pain and the sin will fall away from us and only the spark of the spirit will remain... returning to God who created it."

Susan was speechless with shame. Hannah's words burned dances on her heart. "You must never lose faith," Hannah said softly. "You must never lose heart. God will restore your trust." Susan was crying again, hearing the words more clearly than before, the pain raging more strongly inside of her. "And I know you're afraid," Hannah said gently, lifting her other hand to wipe the tears from Susan's cheeks. "I'm as scared as you are."

Susan let out a sob, burying her head in Hannah's chest. Hannah stroked her head. "But willing to be brave," she said softly. "Brave enough for love."

"Love," Susan cried out. "What's love without you, Hannah?"

"Be brave enough for love," Hannah repeated. "I'll always love you, Sue, and I'll always be watching over you."

"I know," Susan whispered, raising her head. "I'll always remember that."

"Do that," Hannah laughed. "And be the best that you can be, Sue. You're living for the both of us now."

"Oh, don't say that," Susan said, dismayed. "I'll always feel guilty if I never achieve my dreams!"

"You don't have to achieve your dreams." Hannah smiled. "You only have to be happy. And then you will have achieved all of my dreams."

"Aren't you happy, Hannah?" Susan was distressed.

"I wasn't," Hannah said thoughtfully. "No, I lived a fairly miserable life until I found God, Susan. And as soon as I found Him, He decided to take me away from this place."

Susan swallowed in a vain effort to rid her throat of the lump threatening to rise and overtake her. "Oh, Hannah," she said finally.

"So you must be happy for me," Hannah declared. "Give yourself a chance to be happy on Earth as I wasn't."

"I'll try," Susan said, her hand reaching up to smooth the hair back from Hannah's face. Hannah smiled beautifully at her. "God knows I'll try," she whispered.

* * *

Susan bit her lip, squatting down before the concrete slab sitting upright in the grass. The breeze rustled her hair, and she blinked away the tears, her eyes stinging as the air prickled at them under her sunglasses. She smoothed her jacket awkwardly before placing the lily she had brought in the copper vase cemented to the gravestone. The lily stood upright, its head bowed. Susan smoothed the dust away from the engraved words on the plaque, her eyes blurring as she read the words for the hundredth time. The tears hovered on the lids of her eyes.

"Hannah, I have brought you a lily today." Susan's words were clear in the cold air. She glanced down at the lily again, smiling at it. "For the roses were frail and the petals fell away." She paused. Roses were Hannah's favourite. But a rose that died as soon as she plucked it from its stem, well; that wouldn't have done. "The morning mist has kissed your grave," she continued. "Rest now in sleep, for secrets will keep 'til we speak again tomorrow."

An old prayer found its way into Susan's thoughts. "When I lay myself down to sleep tonight..." She smiled through her tears. "I pray I might know why God has tempered judgment not with mercy but with sorrow!" Her fingers shook. "Let the world forsake me. Let them do their best! I will withstand it all."

She stood up suddenly, casting a look around the cemetery. No one else was in sight. She closed her eyes, hugging her arms to herself, listening to the wind rustle the leaves in the trees. Nothing had ever seemed quite so empty to her. "There is another world that watches us..." she said thoughtfully, remembering Hannah's words to her. "I'm not afraid. The angels know when we have sinned though we have been betrayed." Her voice broke. Why couldn't she have Hannah's faith? Why couldn't she see past the blinding sorrow that encompassed her daily life; couldn't fulfill Hannah's final wish, to be happy? Why couldn't she find love? It had been so long since Hannah's death; an eternity and a moment. "Fourteen months..." she murmured softly. "I miss you, Hannah."

She sat down next to Hannah's grave, absently stroking the rough cement, tracing the outline of the words. "As I lay myself down to sleep tonight, I pray I might be granted to see the spark of heaven's guiding light." A bird screeched overhead. She glanced skywards quickly. "Hannah?" The bird soared away, its wings spread wide. An answering call from a bird in the tree next to her attracted Susan's attention. _I'm watching you,_ it seemed to cry. "My rebellion waits," Susan said hopefully. The bird was silent. "A silent guide, my spirit's songs go far beyond these gates..." There was no response from the bird. Susan bowed her head, devastated beyond tears. "Oh, Hannah, what awaits?" she said sadly. "What awaits?"


	2. The Secrets Of The House

**CHAPTER TWO**  
_**The Secrets Of The House**_

_Over mountains, over oceans  
Heaven, take me away  
For I long for my liberty  
For sweet liberty, I pray  
Across the rivers, past the highlands  
With God's wind in my hair_

"_Sweet Liberty" Jane Eyre, The Musical_

Susan woke abruptly, feeling the skin on her cheeks tight with the salty residue of tears again. How many mornings would she wake to realise she'd been crying in her sleep? Sighing heavily, she looked at the clock on the wall. Later than usual. She reached up and tugged the cord hanging there, drawing back the curtains and letting the sunshine fill the room with brilliance. The gleeful shouts of the girls in the dormitory below her room drifted up to her, bringing a tired smile to her lips. "It's seven o'clock in the morning," she said out loud, rolling onto her side and staring at her bedside table. Sighing again, she glanced up out of the window, squinting. "I lift my eyes to autumn skies."

She sat up quickly, realising the date. It really was Autumn. She smiled. "I look out through the graveyard. A silhouetted swallow flies." She watched it. "He flies to distant countries..." she said dreamily. "I lose him just behind a cloud." Her smile faded. "I yearn to be that swallow... and go where I am not allowed." She brightened at the thought. "Over mountains, over oceans; Heaven, take me away!" She paused. "For I long for my liberty..." She stood up, straightening the covers on her bed. "For sweet liberty, I pray."

* * *

"It's nine o'clock in the morning," Susan said softly, watching the girls chatter away excitedly as they potted the plants and dabbed potions on the spots on the stems. "I teach what's been instilled in me... but is this all we're meant for? Condemned to mere tranquility?" She shook her head.

"Well, women feel as men do," she said decisively, catching a glimpse of fellow professors making their way across the estate grounds, leading classes of boys; shouting, whooping, hollering, carefree. "We must engage our minds and souls!" One of Susan's students glanced up in surprise. Susan smiled gently at her, quelling the unease. "Let us, like our brothers," she whispered to herself, walking the perimeter of the room, looking at the girls' work. "Let our worth define our roles. Breaking custom, and convention... Let tradition give way!"

The students looked curiously at her. "For we all need our liberty," Susan said clearly, her voice ringing in the greenhouse. "For sweet liberty, we pray."

* * *

"And I wake from my bed," Susan whispered, sitting bolt upright in her bed. "With the urge to depart and to follow the dreams of my heart." Her words disappeared in the quiet and she fell back against her pillow, the ever present ache threatening to overwhelm her. "It's twelve o'clock in the pitch black night," she said dully. "I can't contain my wanderlust. I seek a new adventure; I search the skies because I must!" She pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes. "I hunger for new faces," she whispered in the stillness. "To find a better destiny... to fly among the swallows far above the troubled sea. Over mountains, over oceans; Heaven, take me away!"

A floorboard creaked outside Susan's room. She ignored it. "For I long for my liberty; for sweet liberty, I pray." Inspired, she slid out of her bed quickly and onto her knees, clasping her hands and looking skywards out of her window. "Across the rivers, past the highlands," she said earnestly. "With God's wind in my hair I look out over boundless skies. My spirit thrives and carries me beyond my past where I find sweet liberty, my liberty, at last..." She sighed, dropping her head. There was a hurried sliding noise as an envelope was thrust under her door. Footsteps hurried away. Susan looked curiously at her. Who was listening at her door at twelve midnight? She reached out for the envelope.

* * *

The same conductor was peering at her. "Do I know you, miss?" he asked. "You look very familiar."

Susan smiled, adjusting her hat. "Perhaps," she answered him. "I take this train quite often to visit my family and friends up north."

"Oh, yes," he said vaguely, taking a ticket from the gentleman sitting opposite Susan. "You often look quite sad." He snapped his gaze to her, contrite. "Sorry, miss."

"That's alright," Susan responded. "It's true, isn't it?"

The conductor smiled. "I often worried about you," he confided. "But I almost didn't recognise you today; you look completely different! You're smiling, for one."

"I am," Susan agreed. "I'm starting a new life, sir. I'm escaping the past and going to pursue my dreams."

"What dreams are they, miss?" he asked politely.

Susan shrugged, still smiling. "I have a dream to be happy," she told him.

The conductor laughed, shaking his head. "Best of luck to you, miss," he replied, shuffling out of the compartment. "Best of luck to you."

Susan settled herself into the green velvet of the familiar seat, tracing the walnut coloured wood of the windowsill. Phrases from the letter rang in her mind. "You've seemed out of sorts..." "People have mentioned your general unhappiness..." "You've been heard muttering about liberty and God..." "We think it would be in your best interests to leave this school for a period..." "We've arranged for you to be a governess to a young girl at an estate called Thornfield in Northern England..." "Your train departs tomorrow at three..." "We send our very best wishes..."

It was like a light shining through the darkness. A chance to release herself, to find some of that liberty she'd been praying so hard for. To truly find God for herself and to achieve the only dream Hannah wanted her to achieve. Who knew, she may even find love and achieve a dream of her own. A world of opportunity awaited her. She remembered the picture of Thornfield that the principal of the school had slipped inside the envelope with reverence. It was beautiful; a great, stone manor set on acres and acres of woods and grounds. The perimeter was marked by a stone wall and the only entrance to the place guarded by great black gates. She felt the delicious stirring of excitement inside her as she pictured the front doors; wooden, twelve feet high, dark red, a brass knocker and a brass bell with a long rope.

"The secrets of the house are just beyond these walls," she murmured. "They hide in long forgotten shadows. Fragments of memories awakened and stirred. I have called, my heart has heard." Sweet liberty would be hers.

* * *

Susan stared up at the beautiful doors in delight, wondering whether to lift the knocker or pull the rope. Before she decided, the decision was made for her as the door was flung open unceremoniously.

"Child!" a short, round, white-haired woman in an apron and bonnet declared, hands on her hips. A tall, lanky man in a tweed coat stood awkwardly next to her, both of them gazing at her in astonishment. "What are you doing on the front doorstep?"

"I..." Susan faltered. "I'm the new governess."

"_Heavens!_" the woman declared. "Come off the front stoop, it's completely unheard of!" Susan was bustled through the doorway, the tall man taking her bags for her. "The front door!" the old woman muttered to herself. "Whatever next?" She extended a plump hand to Susan. "I'm Mrs. Fairfax, dear," she said apologetically. "You must excuse my abruptness but it's just that the servants must _never_ use the front door! They have our own entrance through the kitchens. You'll remember that in future, of course."

Of course, Susan thought, amused. "I'm Susan Bones," she said, shaking Mrs. Fairfax's hand.

"Miss Bones!" Mrs. Fairfax trilled. "Delighted to meet you. This is Robert. I'd say he's the butler only he isn't; he hasn't the deportment."

Robert inclined his head to Susan before hurrying up the winding staircases with her bags. As Susan's eyes followed him, they widened in surprise. The hall in which they were standing was simply beautiful. Tapestries and paintings adorned every wall, the paneling behind them of a deep, rich mahogany.

"He's a very good servant, of course, it's only that he hasn't had the proper training to answer the front door. We have another servant for that," Mrs. Fairfax continued. "Whatever are you staring at? You must come into the kitchens immediately and get acquainted with me over a nice cup of tea. Come along!"

Susan hurried after Mrs. Fairfax through a series of rooms, each more exquisite than the last.

"Here we are!" Mrs. Fairfax shouted behind her, though Susan followed at a mere two paces. "The kitchen is in a bit of a mess, sorry about that. It's the Chef's fault. He threw the peeler on the bench and pieces of carrot sprayed simply everywhere." Susan looked at the bench to see a mere spattering of minute pieces of carrot restricted to one section of the bench.

"Indeed," she said, trying desperately not to laugh.

"Have a seat!" Mrs. Fairfax fussed, pointing at a number of chairs around a small table. "I'll get the teapot."

Susan sat down at the table, marveling at the ornate detail carved around the edges. "It's beautiful," she said softly, running her fingers along the edges.

"It'll be perfectly nice having somebody with whom to converse," Mrs. Fairfax declared, bringing the teapot, two teacups, sugar and milk over on a silver tray. She placed them on the table and took a seat opposite Susan. "The servants are fine but a little perverse." Susan lifted her eyebrow questioningly. Mrs. Fairfax saw that and sighed. "And if I'm a tiny bit terse, it's only because I just fired the chef." She busied herself with the tray.

"Oh dear, that's appalling," Susan said. "Why?"

"Are you talking to me?" Mrs. Fairfax glanced up from pouring the tea into her Susan's teacup. "I'm a little bit deaf. The weather's been rainy and grey," she said, nodding. Susan could only presume Mrs. Fairfax had assumed Susan had asked about the weather and bit her lip to stop herself from smiling mischievously.

Robert, the servant who definitely wasn't and couldn't be a butler, entered the kitchen and tried to give Mrs. Fairfax a plate of freshly picked strawberries. "Robert, stop fussing, you're just in the way!" Mrs. Fairfax said irritably, taking the plate and pushing him away.

Chuckling, Robert headed out. "He's really a dear," Mrs. Fairfax told Susan conspiratorially, "Though a tiny bit queer. There was a time when winter was here- Milk?"

"No-" Susan began. Mrs. Fairfax was pouring it in her cup anyway.

"When no one came by," Mrs. Fairfax continued in weary tones. "No one came near. Sugar?"

"No-" Susan said quickly, only to find Mrs. Fairfax dumping a lump in anyway.

"I was alone for nearly a year!" Mrs. Fairfax declared. Somehow Susan felt that would have been a mercy to someone, at least. "More?" She put two more lumps of sugar in the cup without waiting for Susan's response and pushed the teacup toward her. "And not a creature would come to the house. The vicar came once but he didn't stay long. Or did he come twice? Maybe I'm wrong." Mrs. Fairfax looked despairingly at Susan, who was stirring the three lumps of sugar around in her teacup politely.

"Then as the days went along, like it or not, I was not as depressed. And soon after that, we were finally blessed with little Adele!" Mrs. Fairfax stopped abruptly, catching sight of a small figure at the kitchen door. "Darling, come here!" The child approached. "This is Miss Bones, your governess, dear."

"Bonjour, Miss Bones!" the child said clearly in a French accent, curtseying prettily.

"Bonjour, Adele." Susan smiled. She looked at Mrs. Fairfax. "She is French, then..."

"Yes, I am French. But I speak English frighteningly well," Adele informed her.

"You certainly do," Susan said admiringly.

"Run along now, Adele," Mrs. Fairfax said kindly, smiling at the child. Adele obliged, leaving the room after wishing them both a good afternoon.

"What a spirited girl," Susan said thoughtfully.

"What a story to tell!" Mrs. Fairfax exclaimed. "Her mother is gone! Gone to the Lord. And Mr. Smith took her in as his ward."

Susan's heart melted in pity for Adele. "Mr. Smith, who's he?"

"The owner of Thornfield!" Mrs. Fairfax said, properly flabbergasted. "Did you not know he was called Smith?"

"I thought Thornfield belonged to you," Susan said, intrigued.

Mrs. Fairfax coughed incredulously. "Bless you child, what an idea. I am in charge of the hall. When he's away, I look after it all." She paused. "And he's away most of the time."

"What sort of man is he like?" Susan asked.

"The kind of man who is never about," Mrs. Fairfax replied cryptically.

"Where does he go?" Susan pressed.

"I wouldn't know." Mrs. Fairfax took a large gulp of her tea. "One of a kind, smart as a sage. And like a good wine, gets better with age. Modest and fair, yet one wouldn't dare behave in a manner unfitting one's class. One has a place one mustn't surpass. This is our lot, like it or not." She paused, her face a picture of distress. "I think I've forgotten my thought. What was it? Oh dear, that's not it at all! Did I have a point? I can barely recall. But you'll settle in, read a few books."

"I've brought a few things-" Susan tried to interrupt.

"You've got the brains," Mrs. Fairfax said approvingly.

"Thank you," Susan said, oddly flattered.

"If not quite the looks," Mrs. Fairfax continued.

Susan was appalled. "Mrs. Fairfax!"

"You'll soon adjust, everyone must," Mrs. Fairfax told her, ignoring Susan's protest. "Heed my advice. Let's be precise! Listen to me, I will not tell you twice. You will be in good grace if you face." Susan nodded. "A girl in your place will suffice if she's perfectly nice." Mrs. Fairfax drained her cup. "Finished?"

"Oh," Susan said, startled. "No- I haven't even-"

"Never mind, I'll send it up with Robert shortly," Mrs. Fairfax interrupted her, getting up from the table. "I've got so many things to do this afternoon, dear. We've having a lovely dinner in honour of your first evening, you see." Then she added, "And Mr. Smith is returning home this evening so that's a cause for celebration too. Well, what are you waiting for? Up you get! I'll get Robert to show you to your room. ROBERT!" she hollered. She waited a couple of seconds. Gaining no response, she rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "I'll just have to show you up there myself," she grumbled. "Follow me!"


	3. As Good As You

**CHAPTER THREE**  
_**As Good As You**_

_She was my flame, my galaxy  
I was her fool's delight  
Put me in her spell and  
Turned my rage to trust  
In just one night  
With appetites for pleasure  
We would search for buried treasure_

"_As Good As You" Jane Eyre, The Musical_

"Miss Bones!" The dulcet tones of the housekeeper rang sweetly outside her door. "It's time to come down to the dining hall for dinner! I'd have rung the bell only I didn't know if you would know what that meant and in any case I didn't show you where the dining room was. And I was going to send Robert up but that wouldn't do either because he's completely shy around strangers – not that you're a stranger, dear." She knocked on the door. "Are you ready for dinner?"

Susan opened the door and beamed at the flushed housekeeper. "Radiant."

"I wouldn't go that far," Mrs. Fairfax sniffed. "You're a governess, not a shining ball of gas in the sky. Hurry along, child!"

"I'm hardly a child," Susan protested as she was hurried along the corridor. "I'm nearly thirty seven!"

"Really?" Mrs. Fairfax threw her a surprised look as they hurried along the landing. "Must be because you're so skinny. I didn't think you a day over twenty two."

Susan felt pleased. Mrs. Fairfax caught her blush. "That wasn't a compliment," she admonished her. "Now mind the stairs, dear." She rushed down them, her skirts billowing. She stepped lightly across the hallway. "Now mind you take the back entrance to the dining hall next time," Mrs. Fairfax told Susan, stopping suddenly and gesturing toward the west of the manor. "I'll show you after your dinner. You're not a guest, you're a servant."

"I know," Susan replied, a little perturbed by Mrs. Fairfax's assumptions of her.

"I know you know," Mrs. Fairfax said. "I'm sorry, I'm just very excited. Mr. Smith hasn't been home on near a month and him with no wife to look after him!" She tsked loudly and headed into a sitting room to the right. "Through here, through here." She passed a grand piano. "Do you play the piano?" she asked, interested. "Adele does. She takes lessons twice a week."

"I do." Susan nodded, trying to keep up with her.

"Lovely!" Mrs. Fairfax approved. "Ah, here we go. Mind you don't scratch the doors, dear." Susan glanced at the doors as she passed through. There was at least a two metre gap when they were open. She rolled her eyes discreetly. "Adele!" Mrs. Fairfax kissed the top of the child's head in rapture. "How are you, darling?"

"Trés bien," the child replied. She was already seated at the table. "Bonjour, Miss Bones."

"Bonjour, Adele," Susan replied warmly. "Where should I sit, Mrs. Fairfax?"

"At the place I've set for you, where else?" the housekeeper replied, indicating a place to the right of the head of the table, opposite Adele's place. "Sit, sit, the master will be here soon."

Susan sat down gingerly, feeling very out of place among the ornate decorations and formal place settings. Adele smiled happily across the table at her.

"Are you looking forward to dinner?" Adele asked her.

"Yes," Susan replied. "Yes, I am. I'm rather hungry."

"Are you really?" Adele responded.

"Yes..." Susan said, wondering whether she'd said the wrong thing. "Aren't you?"

Adele shrugged. "I had a fruit platter in my sitting room today, so no, not really."

A lady of leisure, Susan found herself thinking. "Lovely." She smiled.

Adele returned the grin. "Did I hear Mrs. Fairfax ask if you played the piano?"

"You did," Susan affirmed. "I do."

"That's very good news," Adele said. "I should like some help with my studies. Mr. Smith plays the piano too but he isn't often here to advise me."

"What level have you mastered?" Susan asked.

"I'm preparing for my fifth grade examinations next June," Adele replied.

"Oh," Susan said, surprised. "But how old are you, Adele?"

"Eleven," the child replied. "How old are you, Miss Bones?"

"Thirty six," Susan replied.

"So you're twenty five years older than me," Adele mused. "Adequately qualified to teach me."

"I taught at a young girls' school," Susan said, feeling uncomfortable. It struck her that she did not know if this household had any magical folk in it.

"A young girls' school?" Adele's eyes gleamed with interest. "One I would know?"

"I'm not sure," Susan hedged. "How well do you know south England?"

"Quite well," Adele responded. "I've taken five years of geography lessons with Mr. Finnigan."

"Finnigan!" Susan seized on the familiar name. "Seamus Finnigan?"

"I believe so." Adele's look was measured. "Do you know?"

Susan's relief was evident. "Yes. Yes, I knew him. We went to school together."

"At Hogwarts?" Adele inquired.

Susan shot her a surprised look. "Yes," she said cautiously. "At Hogwarts."

"How interesting," Adele remarked. "I hadn't realised."

A bell chimed in the next room. Mrs. Fairfax put her head around the double doors. "Stand up!" she hissed. "Adele, you must instruct her!" She disappeared.

Susan flushed. Adele smiled. "Mr. Smith approaches us, we must stand to acknowledge his position."

"Oh," Susan said, startled. She pushed back her chair and shot to her feet.

Adele smiled again. "It's only to humour Mrs. Fairfax," she said quietly. "Mr. Smith doesn't really care for pomp and circumstance."

Susan breathed out in relief.

"Mister Zacharias Smith!" Robert appeared in the double doors, announcing Mr. Smith. He stepped aside and a tall man around Susan's own age appeared behind him. He was dressed simply in a dinner suit, his dark hair combed neatly. Susan lowered her gaze as Adele was doing.

"Thank you, Robert." Mr. Smith entered the room. "Ladies."

Susan watched Adele from under her lashes. Adele raised her head graciously. Susan copied her.

"Sir," Adele said, curtseying. She glanced toward Susan.

Susan had a moment of horror. Was she supposed to curtsey too? She shot a frantic look at Adele.

"You must be the new governess," Mr. Smith said, striding forward to meet her. "Forgive my lateness please." He took her hand and pressed his lips to it, smiling at her. "My name is Zacharias Smith."

There was something vaguely familiar about the man's face. Something that spoke of youth and laughter to Susan. She couldn't place it. She smiled at Mr. Smith. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. Smith."

"Oh, please," he said with a laugh, dropping her hand. He moved around her and took his place at the table, indicating that they should sit too. "Call me Zacharias."

There was a discreet cough from the door. Mrs. Fairfax was standing there. "Ah," Zacharias said, his lips twitching. Was he fighting to restrain a smile? Susan glanced at Mrs. Fairfax, who was looking _very_ disapprovingly at her. "Soup, Mrs. Fairfax?"

"Yes, sir," Mrs. Fairfax replied, tight-lipped. "I have it here. It's pumpkin." She wheeled in a silver trolley adorned with a silver tureen.

"Not that rubbish again," Zacharias said cheerfully. Mrs. Fairfax shot him a horrified look. "I'm joking, that's my favourite!" he said exasperatedly. Susan hid a smile as Mrs. Fairfax sniffed haughtily and began ladling the soup.

"How have you been, Adele?" Zacharias asked the child warmly.

Adele smiled beguilingly at him. "Very well, sir, thank you."

"I'm very glad to hear it," he told her. "I've missed you on my travels."

"Have you, sir?" Adele seemed pleased. "How was your trip?"

"Good, good!" he exclaimed, picking up his spoon as Mrs. Fairfax wheeled her trolley out of the room again. "And you, Miss..." he turned his gaze on Susan. "Do you know," he said thoughtfully, "I do believe I've forgotten to ask your name."

Susan smiled. "Susan, sir."

"Just Susan?" He seemed amused.

"It's Miss Bones," Adele piped up.

"You don't say!" he exclaimed. Susan's eyes widened in alarm at his excitement. "Susan Bones! Really? Gosh, Susan Bones!"

"Yes," Susan said nervously. "Have we met before?"

"Have we met before!" he hooted. "Dear Miss Bones, I went to school with you!"

Confused, Susan stared at him. Had she gone to school with this distinguished gentleman? She racked her brains furiously. Zacharias Smith. Zacharias Smith. Who-

"Oh!" Susan suddenly exclaimed. "Big Mouth!" She clapped her hands over her mouth. "I'm sorry, sir, that was very rude of me."

He laughed harder. "Big Mouth!" he exclaimed. "I'd completely forgotten that was what they called me. Yes, indeed, and all because I had the gall to question The Boy Who Lived in DA meetings!" He grinned at her. "Miss Bones, you've restored my youth to me. This is bringing back so many memories I can scarce believe it."

"Myself either," Susan said. She picked up her spoon and took a mouthful of the warm soup. "I didn't recognise you at all, sir."

"As well you shouldn't!" he said gaily, eating his own soup. "Eat up, Adele, or it'll get cold. No, indeed, Miss Bones, for I have changed beyond recognition, I think!"

"You have, you really have," Susan said, giving him a small smile.

"We must go for a walk in the grounds after dinner," Zacharias declared. "Now, don't look so sulky, Adele; I'm going to spend the whole of tomorrow with you. You need to practise the piano before bed tonight, anyway. Mrs. Fairfax tells me that you didn't practise this morning and your tutor will be here tomorrow!"

"Sorry, sir," Adele mumbled through her soup.

"Cheeky brat," Zacharias ribbed her. "Won't we promenade through the garden, Miss Bones?"

"Indeed we will, sir," Susan replied.

* * *

"Tell me of your life, Miss Bones." Zacharias' eyes gleamed as he contemplated the woman standing beside him. They stood admiring the fountain in the courtyard of the estate.

"Is that real marble?" Susan asked instead.

Zacharias laughed. "Yes, it is."

"Gracious," she said, alarmed. She backed away from it, taking tiny steps.

"You won't break it!" he said, amused.

"I wouldn't like to take my chances," she replied, eyeing it warily.

He only laughed again. "Do tell me, Miss Bones, what you've been doing since Hogwarts."

"Oh, plenty of things," Susan said thoughtfully. "I left nearly twenty years ago... as did you, sir."

"True, true," he said amiably. "I did indeed. Quite awhile. It doesn't seem that long."

"No, it doesn't," Susan agreed. Thinking of Hannah, she sobered. "Though it seems like an eternity at the same time."

"Indeed," Zacharias said thoughtfully. "Perhaps it does. Were you never married, Miss Bones?"

Susan shifted her weight, her heart pounding faster. "No, sir," she replied. "I was not."

"Why ever not?" At Susan's agonised look, he hastened to explain his motive. "One of such breeding as yourself, Susan; a pure blooded witch, at that; intelligent to boot and rather handy with a wand, as I do recall... Why, you'd have been a match for any wizard worth his salt."

"Perhaps, sir," she replied.

"Perhaps!" He smiled. "You've an innocent way of looking at things."

"Have I, sir?"

"Well, perhaps not innocent," he conceded. "But demure. Accepting."

"I do not agree, sir," Susan said.

"Why?" he pressed. "You do not accept things as they are?"

"Hardly," she responded. "I tend to fight them."

"What have you fought?" he asked.

Susan shook her head, almost imperceptibly. "Nothing."

He raised an eyebrow but did not insist. "You must tell me more of yourself," he said instead. "I know next to nothing of you and it's driving me mad!" He smiled. Susan's heart fluttered. "How are our mutual friends, Miss Bones?"

"Who were our mutual friends?" she asked.

"Oh, everyone in Hufflepuff!" he said, surprised. "Terry Boot, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott- you were friends with them, were you not?"

"I was," Susan affirmed.

"Was?" he queried. "No longer?"

"I have not seen Ernie in a very long time," she said reluctantly. "And Terry I see only once a year when I journey home at Christmas time."

"I see," he said. "And Hannah?"

Susan flinched. "She's no longer with us," she said shortly.

"Oh, dear!" Zacharias seemed distressed. "I'm terribly sorry to hear that, Miss Bones." He paused. "Do you mind if I call you Susan?"

"I do not, sir," Susan said quietly.

"Good." He sighed suddenly. "I'm sorry to have broached such a sad subject with you," he said. "Would you rather we discussed my life, or Adele, or the manor...?"

"I do not mind, sir."

"Do call me Zacharias," he implored her.

Susan gave him a level look. "I fear the wrath of Mrs. Fairfax," she said wryly.

He laughed. "Indeed, she is a stickler for knowing one's place." His eyes danced in the moonlight. "Have you any ties outside of your home and Thornfield, Susan?"

"Ties?" Susan hesitated. "No, sir."

"No illegitimate child tucked away in boarding school?" At the shake of her head, he continued. "No secret love pining away in the mountains?"

"No, sir!"

"In the city then?"

Susan looked at him, shocked. He grinned boyishly. "Sir," Susan said sternly. "I'm not sure this is appropriate."

"What love is?" he asked her instead. "You're so _good,_ Susan," he complained.

"I most certainly am not," Susan replied indignantly.

"You are," he assured her. "Compared to me." "Oh, love," he sighed. "Love is like a virus we're infected with. We're so naïve. Wouldn't it be wonderful if life were just as you perceive?"

"Perhaps."

"Women are inhuman, worthless, coarse and savage. On the average, never to be trusted, completely maladjusted," Zacharias stated. Susan gave him a terrifying look. "It's true!" he continued wickedly. "But if I'd not loved a few," he conceded, "I might have been as good as you."

Susan was silent, absorbing this.

"She was my flame, my galaxy. I was her fool's delight," Zacharias said thoughtfully. "Put me in her spell and turned my rage to trust in just one night. With appetites for pleasure, we would search for buried treasure..." He smiled at Susan, taking her by the elbow and leading her away from the fountain under the hedge arches into a rose garden. "In the excess of temptation, I thought it my salvation, it's true... But if I had thought things through, I might have been as good as you."

Susan raised her eyebrow. As good as her, indeed. She was no shining example and surely he realised that.

"She found me handsome, my opera dancer," Zacharias mused. Susan could imagine it to be true. He was no great beauty but then neither was she. "And like a fool, I believed it was true. I held the world inside my hands, a man full in his pride." He smiled wistfully. "When she left me for another, pierced my heart a second time..." He sighed. "'Nothing lasts forever', she said. 'Find the door yourself, dear. Won't you think me still your flower? I've treasured every hour, it's true. But if I had loved you too, I might have been as good as you.'" He paused. Susan could only stare at him.

"I came upon her some time later. The years had not been very kind. She had this child, Adele, said she was mine as well. 'Nothing lasts forever, Zach. Take good care and won't you take our lovely daughter, for you see, dear, I don't want her. But I'm still your flower, I'll just bloom elsewhere. Tell her my soul is in heaven with God.'" He sighed again. "Miss Bones, I tell you this because I want you to know that I, with some luck, without shame, without blame, or the curse of my name might have been as good as you."

"I believe you are a thousand times better, sir," Susan assured him.

"We'll see," he responded. "We'll see." He glanced around, shivering suddenly. "The night is cold and I did not realise we were both so inappropriately dressed." He glanced toward the manor. Mrs. Fairfax could clearly be seen in one of the upper windows. "Dear Mrs. Fairfax!" He laughed. "Best go inside, Susan."

"Yes, sir." Susan followed him through the gardens, her mind awhirl with thought. So Adele's mother was still alive after all! She wondered if the poor child knew. It was a shame. But even as much pity as she felt for Adele, she could not help feeling a warm contentment that he had imparted all this to her.


	4. Waters Of His Fury

**CHAPTER FOUR**  
_**Waters of his Fury**_

_Deep in my secret soul, I stand alone  
The purpose of why I'm here is still unknown  
And I can't help but sense the darkness in his mind  
But I keep looking for his goodness  
Afraid of what I'll find_

"_Secret Soul" Jane Eyre, The Musical_

"And now F sharp minor," Adele said primly, seated at the piano in a pretty little blue dress.

"Four octaves?" Susan asked, glancing down at the chart that had been thrust into her hands. "Staccato and legato."

"One at a time!" Adele seemed irritated. She began, and her fingers flew over the keys. Susan was impressed; Adele had a real flair for the piano. Her musicality was good.

"Very good, Adele," Susan said, when she was finished.

"Have you no criticisms?" Adele asked.

"None," Susan replied. "Except, perhaps for the descending scales..." she hesitated. She did not want to sound like a novice. "Your rhythm wasn't quite as pronounced as on the way up. Try feeling one in a bar, accenting the first semiquaver."

Adele considered that. "Alright," she said finally. And so began again.

"Much better." Susan nodded her approval.

"Good," Adele said. "My tutor will be pleased." She smiled suddenly. "Thank you."

"Any time," Susan said, feeling pleased herself.

"Are you enjoying being at the manor?" Adele questioned her, putting her piano book aside and swinging her legs over the stool.

"Yes," Susan said. "Yes, I really am. The past four weeks have flown by so fast." She smiled at the girl. "Are you enjoying having me here?"

"It's not bad." Adele shrugged. "You are more fun than my last governess."

Stung, Susan bit back a retort. "Who was she?" she asked instead.

"Miss Brown," Adele replied. "She was always flirting with Mr. Smith. It grew wearying. So I had her replaced."

"Did you really?" Susan was aghast though she hid it. The little upstart.

Adele looked mournful. "She was there to teach and look after me like a mother would," she explained. "Not try and make a husband out of my warden."

Susan nodded. She could agree with that. "Not Lavender Brown, by any chance?"

"I thought her name was Letitia," Adele replied. "But you may be right. She went to school with Mr. Smith. And you," she added as an afterthought.

"That would be Lavender, then," Susan informed her. "Unless she had a younger sister I did not know of."

Adele raised her eyebrow. "She certainly looked younger than you."

"She uses cosmetic charms," Susan said stiffly.

Adele shrugged. "If you insist." She brightened. "Did I tell you? Mr. Smith is having a dinner party at the end of the week!"

"Indeed?" Susan was intrigued. "Whatever for?"

"I don't know," Adele said, swinging her legs idly. "For social reasons? He does have a life, you know," she added witheringly.

"I'm aware of that, Adele," Susan snapped.

Surprised, Adele looked up at her. "Are you?"

"Yes," Susan said firmly. "I am very aware of that. So you don't need to point it out."

"Okay," Adele said in a smaller voice. She smiled at Susan. "Lots of guests are coming."

"How many?"

"Twenty five, I think," Adele decided. "At least, I think that's what Mrs. Fairfax said."

Mrs. Fairfax hadn't mentioned anything of the sort to Susan at breakfast. "Indeed."

"Miss Zeller is coming," Adele added. "Mrs. Fairfax was most excited."

Susan's heart lurched. "Who is Miss Zeller?"

"One of our more wealthy neighbours," Adele replied. "She lives in the large estate about two miles away. They have a ballroom."

"How delightful," Susan said dryly. "Is she wealthier than Mr. Smith?"

"No," Adele said, her bright eyes gazing at Susan intently.

"I see," Susan replied.

There was a knock at the door. Robert opened it and smiled shyly at Susan. "Miss Bones," he said quietly. "The tutor has arrived."

"Hurrah!" Adele jumped off her seat and ran to greet her tutor.

* * *

Her dreams weren't sweet. She awoke in a cold sweat, feeling her clammy legs clinging to the sheets. She pushed the coverlet and sheets aside, lying in the cold air. Was she doing what Hannah had asked of her? Was this making her happy, dreaming dreams unattainable?

Who was she, anyway, to dream of Zacharias Smith? He was her boss, her employer. It wasn't right for her to think of him in such a manner. Yet it kept niggling at her. He had changed so. He was a lovely, funny, kind man. Certainly, he was very wealthy but they'd started in the same place; surely he wasn't so unattainable? She doubted that she loved him at such an early stage, though, and resolved to put a stop to it. He obviously didn't feel the same affection for her. Why would he, when he was surrounded by such decadence and had beautiful, wealthy neighbours like Rose Zeller? Rose Zeller must be the neighbour Adele spoke of. She'd always been a beautiful girl, though five years younger than Susan. She would be well suited to Zacharias. They shared wealth, power, status and society. She was a sparkling jewel and would be the perfect compliment to Zacharias.

But why was she thinking like this? Nothing had been said of Zacharias' intention to marry Rose Zeller. It was only Susan reading Adele's implied tones the wrong way, that was all. And even if he did wish to marry Rose Zeller, that was nothing to do with Susan. She was merely the governess. The plain, middle-society governess selected to care for the ward of Zacharias Smith. Though, she reminded herself, that ward was in fact his daughter. She wondered where Adele's mother was now.

There was no good to come of wondering such things. Susan chastised herself and curled up on her bed, resolving to think of nothing but sheep jumping over fences in an effort to return to sleep.

* * *

"Pass the butter, please." Zacharias stared at Susan. "The butter," he repeated.

Snapping out her daze, Susan picked up the butter dish and passed it to him.

"Thank you," he responded mechanically, spreading the butter on his roll. Susan glanced down at her hands guiltily, feeling as though she'd committed a sin by not paying attention. She hoped he wasn't offended.

"Is something wrong, sir?" Adele asked of Zacharias.

His head snapped up. "Why would anything be wrong?"

"I don't know," Adele replied sulkily, taking a mouthful of vegetables. "Because you're really grumpy?"

His expression altered to allow him to grin momentarily at her. "Only you could get away with that," he quipped.

Adele smiled at him. Susan smiled at Adele, feeling her heart contract as she considered the real relationship between these two. She knew now for certain that Adele had no idea that Zacharias was her father. But why?

"Why are you grumpy?" Adele asked.

He sighed. "I have to cancel the dinner party this week." Mrs. Fairfax, who was hovering at the door, stopped and looked horrified. "Postpone it, I mean. A fortnight from Friday." Mrs. Fairfax continued to look horrified. "Just postpone it, Mrs. Fairfax!" Zacharias said impatiently. She bustled out of the room in an undignified fashion.

"Why?" Adele persisted.

"Rose Zeller is visiting us tomorrow!" Zacharias said, frustration evident in his voice. "She wishes me to postpone the dinner party because of a proposition or some such rubbish." He was glowering. Susan felt stricken. A proposition from Rose Zeller? Surely it was impolite in this society for the woman to propose a union? ... Surely?

"A proposition," Adele said primly. "For what purpose?"

"Don't know." Zacharias shrugged. "But it's annoying. Still..." he sighed. "We will entertain Miss Zeller tomorrow as the occasion requires."

Susan stood up suddenly. "Please excuse me," she said quickly before hurrying from the room. She dashed to the nearest bathroom and shut the door behind her, her heart pounding. What would the visit from Rose Zeller yield? Would she propose marriage? Was she the sort? Susan had no idea. She hated not knowing. What could she do?

She stared bleakly in the gold framed mirror, feeling even more despair. "You're so plain, Susan Bones," she told her reflection. "Why does this upset you so, when you're in no position to marry him yourself?" Why indeed. She sighed, washing her hands.

She closed the door behind her and started across the hall.

"Susan." Zacharias was standing at the foot of the stairs. "Why did you leave the table?"

"I..." Susan racked her brain. "Bathroom," she managed.

He regarded her with icy eyes. "Is that all?" he challenged.

"Yes," Susan said weakly.

He shrugged. "Fair enough." He headed up the stairs. Susan let out a sigh of relief, heading toward the dining hall to find Adele.

* * *

"What can I do now, my precious lord?" Susan asked bitterly, staring up at the night sky. She shivered and wrapped her cloak closer around her, sighing softly. "His dark love would be my best reward." She sat down on the edge of the marble fountain and dipped her fingers in the water, reveling in the icy temperatures. She was so stupid, she knew that now. She could no longer dismiss the feelings she felt for her employer. This was no passing infatuation.

Susan stood up suddenly and headed through the hedge arches into the rose garden. She looked up at the house and could see Zacharias silhouetted in the window as he stood there. "I know I should not dare to go deeper in his madness but it's like a field I must run through," she said urgently, trying to justify it. "No one's words will make me love him less!"

Horrified at having said the words out loud, she sank to the path and picked up a fallen rose petal, admiring the beauty of it before remembering its name and scrunching it up in anger, throwing it away from her. "How much I can stand, I cannot guess," she said bitterly. "The secret voice that speaks to me tells me he's in danger. Looking to the dust for tenderness." She sighed. "Deep in my secret soul, I stand alone." A tear slipped down her cheek as she remembered the absence of more than Zacharias. She lifted her eyes skywards, searching for her friend.

"The purpose of why I'm here is still unknown," she told the stars. "And I can't help but sense the darkness in his mind... But I keep looking for his goodness... afraid of what I'll find!" She dropped her gaze. "My heart moves through his unquiet sea. I pray a wave will come and carry me closer to his troubled tide, waters of his fury. But how can I swim this great divide?"

Susan got to her feet and walked further into the gardens, finding herself surrounded by the annual pansies, the coloured petals winking merrily in the moonlight. "Deep in my secret soul I cry his tears," she said, wiping her sole tear away before the others arrived. "I weather his angry voice." She winced, remembering his mood at lunchtime. "I feel his fears. His life has infected every wound and every ward. I feel his mystery possess me! And I pray that mercy shall stand and bless me. Deep in his secret soul, his past is past. I summon my deepest will to steal his heart." She barked a cynical laugh. "Oh, give me the strength to come! The journey I take deep within must end within my secret soul."

Upstairs, Zacharias watched the stooped figure of Susan in the garden as she bent and examined the flowers, seemingly unaware of his watchful gaze. He sighed, flexing his hands and stretching them above his head, his thoughts in turmoil. It wasn't right. He shouldn't be feeling this for a governess of his only daughter. And especially not in his situation. But there was denying it, something about Susan Bones appealed to his soul. He knew that they were not a logical match. Mrs. Fairfax would have a heart attack if she knew.

"The spring of blood falls in me," he muttered, watching her move into the next garden. "Her gentle voice I hold dear! Her life has infected every wound and every ward. I feel her mystery possess me and I pray that mercy's hand will let me." He sighed again. "Deep in my secret soul, I stand alone! I will not atone! And I will not ever let her deep within my secret soul!" He snapped the blind shut and turned away from the window furiously.

At the sudden noise, Susan's head snapped back toward the window but the blind was closed and she could no longer see his silhouette. _See, Susan,_ she thought sadly. _It's not meant to be._


End file.
